My Not So Dead Detective
by Sherlocked7437
Summary: Hey Guys this is my first story so be nice ; Load of love to all your sherlock fans out there :D I love us! :P Lots of johnlock eventually but some Moriarty aswell.. I own nothing *Sobs* Just my imagination... Enjoy and please leave reviews xxx
1. Enough's Enough

The days since Sherlock's death had been long and drawn out. John found himself drowning in the sorrow of losing his best friend, his only true friend. There were still traces of the man in 221B, his smell still lingered in the old flat and John found it agonising every time he brushed past one of Sherlock's dressing gowns to find his scent waft into the air around him. So many mysteries surrounding Mr. Holmes, so many words that the young army doctor had not said and that's what bothered him. He had let himself love a man that could never return his feelings; Sherlock had once said he considered himself married to his work, john felt he was stupid to think his consulting detective could ever love him and now it seemed he would never find out.

John had always hated smoking, a nasty habit he thought 'bad for breathing' but then again Sherlock had always said breathing was boring, he never did understand what he meant by that. As john walked the now empty streets of London he found himself gravitating towards the smokers: He liked the smell, it made him remember. On bad days John would sit in his arm chair in 221B and stare at the ceiling just thinking, he would remember his friends face, those sharp cheekbone, and those piercing eyes that could tell you your life story just by looking at your face. Yes, John thought, Sherlock could read anything except of course Johns true feelings for him but of course that wasn't exactly his division.

Three years it had been, why did he still feel this way John pondered whilst sitting in the kitchen of 221B Baker Street, even now he still expected to open the fridge to find one of Sherlock's experiments; He never did!

John was in pain, more pain than any of his friends could imagine. He'd considered suicide obviously but never could bring himself to pull the trigger or take that one step of the top of a tall building to join _his_ detective, he guessed this was because he knew how it felt, how it felt to have someone close to you ripped out of this world forever; he couldn't do that to the handful of people that still cared for him. Those people who had been there the long days and weeks that followed Sherlock's tragic death, all the days where he barely spoke and only got out of bed to grab some more tissues to sob into.

But today was different, today John had had enough. He was done with the pain and sorrow and had decided that he wasn't going to recover from his grief he cared for Sherlock too much to just go on in life without him, he had made his decision. On this particular day a documentary had been released on Sherlock Holmes the genius fraud. John just couldn't do it anymore he could not continue to live when the only human being in the world who he truly loved was dead!

So John Hamish Watson, army doctor, colleague and friend of Sherlock Holmes the world's only consulting detective went to his desk and pulled out a gun slowly raising it to his temple took a slow shaky breath and whispered 'I believed and loved Sherlock Holmes.'


	2. The Visitor

John took his last lung full of air and pulled the trigger...

There was silence, John looked around he seemed to still be sitting in the same spot in 221B Baker Street with a gun in his hand that was now shaking frantically. What had happened? Was this supposed to be heaven or worse yet hell? Or was John's dying mind playing tricks on him as he slowly fell into the clasps of death? NO: He was very much alive, still!

Quickly John checked the barrel of the gun: Empty. This could not be, he always kept his gun loaded should any of Moriarty's web come looking for him. His gun made him feel safe, it always had because he knew that as long as he had it with him he could defend himself and his friends.

John collapsed to the floor in tears of agony he just wanted death or Sherlock and since it was very unlikely that he could have Sherlock anymore death was the second best option and he couldn't even get that! Through his sobs and cries of pain he did not hear the click of the latch on the door and the creak of a man stalking up the stairs into his flat to stand directly behind him.

Two hands wrapped around the army doctors shaking frame and John found himself leaning into the embrace, eyes shut. Could it really be him? John paused to ponder whether his detective had come to him from the dead to comfort him or if this was just an illusion his mind had made? But it couldn't really be him, could it?

Suddenly a soft voice whispered into his ear, at first John thought it was soft and comforting but he did recognise it from somewhere and if not Sherlock's then whose? Then John realised, all the colour drained from his face and his heart skipped several beats. This voice belonged to a man he would never expect to meet in heaven. He could hear the smirk in the man's voice as he leaned down to john's ear and whispered softly 'couldn't let you die could I Johnny boy, my games not over yet, the fairy tale continues...'


	3. Staying Alive

**Heyy Everyone felt like writting you another chaper since I'm back to school this week and with exams I may have to leave it a few days,, hope this isn't too bad a cliffhanger but I promise the wait will be worth it and maybe the next chapter will be longer in length than the short snippets I've been writing at the moment! **

**Please Do review because it would make me so so so soooo happy to see your opinions! **

"H-how, W-what do you want?" John's voice was barely above a whisper and his shaking was growing more and more apparent to him.

"Hmmmm, I thought that part would be obvious Mr. Watson dear, I want information on our budding detective, Where is he? ...And John please do tell me everything you know we wouldn't want me to slip and accidentally shoot you in the head, I'm sure Sherlock would be very upset" Moriarty's smirk was still evident as he spoke.

"B-but I... Sherlock? He's d-dead" Tears of confusion were running down Johns face -_What did he mean where is Sherlock? Sherlock's dead, right? _The cold voice of the master mind criminal standing next to him broke his train of thought with a soft whisper into his ear.

"He tell you to say that John, did he? Look I'm trying to be fair here instead of just shooting you dead right now so if I were you I would TELL ME where SHERLOCK is" His voice wavered from angry shouts to soft whispers.

John was confused why could he possibly need to know where Sherlock was if he was dead? Unless he wasn't dead! A small glimmer of hope dwelled inside the army doctor who now stood up and turned to face Moriarty trying to suppress the grin on his face...

"Sherlock Holmes was my best friend yes, but he was also a clever man and, Moriarty, if he is alive I do not know how or where he is!" John felt triumph as well as hurt that his detective is out there somewhere alive and yet he couldn't send John the slightest clue to stop him falling into his deep depression ;well that had Sherlock written all over.

Moriarty's smile faded to be replaced by a grimace of twisted pain on his face "Okay then John so you don't know where Sherlock is..." he paused as if in thought "...That doesn't mean to say you can't help me find him. Boooooyyyysss" Moriarty clicked his fingers and the whole world went black.


	4. Cabin in the woods

John sat up and looked around there was no sign of weapon in the car though the man driving looked suspicious enough. There were more cars that followed the one he was in too six to be precise. Who were these people, the only clue he had was that in some way or another they were connected to one James Moriarty the man who had kidnapped him from his home at 221B Baker Street; perhaps he was even in one of the cars that followed him.

"Where are we going?" John asked confidence returned to his voice.

"Nowhere" Replied the man in the front seat, his voice seemed harsh and strong, John knew that this wasn't a man to question so he sat back and tried to sleep away the rest of the journey.

The car came to a halt outside the suspected house. He could see now that this was not just a small cabin in the woods, no not at all, this was a high-tech hideout it seemed. The doors were metal and the structure of the house suggested that the floors of the cabin were situated underground, a bunker perhaps. This was Moriarty John though so there must be something more to this _safe house?_

The man in the front seat got out and opened the door for John to get out and that's when he heard it, the music...

'_Ah, ha, ha, ha,  
Stayin' alive.  
Stayin' alive.'_

John felt his stomach drop and his face grow pale, this was going to be the longest day he'd ever have even if Sherlock might be alive out there.

**Here's another short installment because I was bored and decided against shooting a wall ;) **

**Please leave reviews for me because it makes this whole story worth the while to know that people are Enjoying it, even if it's just to say Hi!**

**Oooo And if you guys have written and Sherlock fics i would love to read them so tell me about it xx Love you all **

**Enjoy!**


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